Shwd mae pawb? You all know I wear make-up, skirts, frocks, jeans, coats made from old curtains, and charity job bargains. That’s because clothes aren’t gendered. Well, it turns out neither am I.
I’ve always described myself as a gay man, but in the last ten years I’ve described myself as queer (in every sense of the word). But I’ve never felt like a “real” man. Not that I am not masculine. I’m strong and can fix things. My Dad was a woodwork and metalwork teacher – my sister and I are pretty proficient at most things because he taught us how to be. But I’ve never fitted in to what society says a man is. I’m not a woman either, but I’m willing to express my femininity. I don’t give two shits to be honest.
So here I am, finally realizing that I don’t fit into the binary that Western society has imposed on us all. Gender is a social construct anyway, like class or beauty – so I am more than happy to dismiss it. Gender is bullshit.
I explained it to my husband, friends, family, and colleagues like this:
My sex is male, I was raised as a male, and am perceived (mostly) as a male. But I’m not a man. Think of me as the reverse Pinocchio. I’m not a real boy!
I’ve changed my pronouns to they/them, but I’ll answer to any. None of this will affect you in any way, but I wanted to share. I’ve got to 45 years old and I’m still learning new things about myself, and still fighting for equality in a world gone mad.
Love
Andy x
